Walking the Tree Read online

  Her feet felt sharp pains as splinters worked their way into her heels.

  "Come on, Lillah, there are other girls to talk to," Melia's father called. "Let's speed it up, please."

  I know that, I've just been sitting in a circle pretending to wish them luck for an hour, Lillah thought. She forced a smile on her face and knelt down before the fathers. "Hello," she said. The sun was in her eyes and she had to squint. She could feel the heat of it burning her, and knew she would look red for the physical judging in the evening. Lillah cursed herself for leaving her hat behind. She couldn't hold her plate of sweets and keep her hat safe from the wind, and she had chosen the sweets. Perhaps not such a good idea.

  Suddenly, from land, came a terrible cry. Lillah instantly thought of someone crushed, trapped beneath a massive fallen Limb and legs crushed to jelly.

  "It must be Magnolia," Thea's father said. "It's time." Lillah jumped up in shock. Her plate of sweets fell to the seawalk and shattered.

  "Is she all right?" Lillah asked, realising as she spoke they couldn't possibly know.

  "You run to find out, Lillah. Then come back to tell us." Lillah nodded and ran, not caring about the splinters now. She could work them out later with a long, thin bone needle, line them up like a score to show Magnolia how much she cared.

  Lillah ran past the spectators, the pot makers and the young women waiting their turn. "What is it, Lillah? What did they say?" she heard Erica call.

  "Nothing yet, it's Magnolia," she shouted over her shoulder as she ran.

  "I'll come with you," Melia said.

  The shriek rang out again. Lillah felt her stomach clench and her legs falter. She did not want to see this. She did not like blood or pain. She had seen a man crushed by a Tree Limb, once, speared through the belly and anchored across the legs. The screams Lillah heard now equalled those of Araucari when that Tree Limb fell. This was worse, in fact. There was something very animalistic about it. Monkeylike.

  Lillah and Melia ran.

  As they approached Logan's house, Lillah stopped. She did not want to see. She wanted to go back to her interview, make them love her. Let them choose her as Number One, exclaim over her bonsai, score her highly for it and say how clever she was, how like the Tree it was. Let them lick their fingers to savour the last taste of her sweets. Let them say, "Lillah, we are unanimous in our decision."

  The wails were much louder, now. Lillah could not imagine how her sister-in-law, a slight woman with delicate fingers, could make such a noise.

  Lillah and Melia entered the house. It was smaller than their own, but much neater. Magnolia had been nesting in the six days before. Every surface sparkled. Everything had a place.

  Magnolia roared.

  "Oh, my, is she all right? Where's the Birthman? Can't he help?"

  Lillah felt tears forming in her eyes. "Magnolia," she said. She knew she had to face this or run away forever. She stepped forward to the front door and pushed it open. She felt as if a wave of heat, miasmic heat, came pouring out. She choked.

  Melia said, "I don't think they need me. I'll tell the others you'll be along."

  Lillah heard "Nononononon", and she ran then, knocking over a jug, ignoring the smash and the mess.

  "Logan?" she called. "Magnolia?"

  Her father opened the door to the bedroom and stepped out. Lillah gasped at his exhausted face, his slumped shoulders.

  "Lillah," he said. "Your interview."

  "They said I could come to find out about Magnolia. Is she okay? What's happened?"

  Her father leaned one hand high on the door frame then rested his head against his straightened arm. "It's okay, Lillah. She's exhausted, but I think we're nearly there. We are into the second day. I wish I could take over for her. You want to take the suffering of the children."

  "You look exhausted yourself. Can't you call someone to help?" Her father shook his head weakly. "The Birthman is here. He's doing all he can." He stood back and opened the door wide, so Lillah could see inside.

  "I'm trapped, I'm caged," Magnolia wailed. Her eyes flicked open suddenly and Lillah jumped back. She thought Magnolia was going to sit up, point a finger, say "It is your fault", then collapse back on the bed.

  "You're not trapped," Lillah said from the doorway, braving her sister-in-law.

  "I'm trapped. There's no place to go but forward."

  Lillah's father nodded. "Women always say strange things when they're in labour. Don't they?" He looked at the Birthman.

  "The funniest things, some of them. Scream abuse at their men. Some of the things you hear! It's like they've been saving it up for their entire life, to spew out when no one will blame them."

  Lillah stepped away and her father said, "Come on, we'll go out for a few blinks."

  In the kitchen, Melia brewed tea. Lillah leaned forward and kissed her father. "I only hope I find a father-in-law as loving and accepting as you are to Magnolia. I wish I could stay here. Can't they send a husband to me? I don't mind waiting."

  Tears came to Myrist's eyes. "You would not miss this journey for all the Bark on the Tree. It is a wonderful time. The learning, the joy. The hard work, too, they tell me, but the joy of guiding the children through their education…"

  "I barely remember my teachers," Lillah said. The fresh water boiled, and they knocked at the bedroom door once, then again when there was no response.

  "Magnolia? Logan?" she called quietly.

  "Come in," Logan said. Lillah opened the door and entered, her father so close behind she could feel his heart beat.

  There was blood in the room. The smell of it hung heavy, and the smell of waste, too. Magnolia lay slumped on the bed. The Birthman, Pittos, looked exhausted. He washed his hands, dried them on his apron. He was a very large man who almost filled the room. Lillah and the other children had loved him when they were little. Even as a young man he could carry six of them; one on his shoulders, one on his back, one under each arm and one clinging to each leg. He would stomp about, roaring and spinning like a giant salmon trying to shake off lice. When Rhizo had arrived, one of four teachers escorting ten children, she was light, like cobwebs, and she giggled like bird call. He fell in love with her and courted her with songs and playfulness. She fell in love with his joy of children.

  Overcoming his tiredness, he smiled brightly at Lillah and Myrist as they entered the room.

  "Myrist, I think we should change the sheets. Freshen up." Lillah's father nodded. Lillah helped change the blood-stained sheets while Logan held Magnolia, who was panting so quickly Lillah wondered she didn't faint.

  "We're getting there, darling," the Birthman said. He stroked Magnolia's brow. "Some way to go, but we're getting there."

  Magnolia opened her eyes wide as a new contraction rose within her. She rolled over onto her hands and knees and threw her head back. She roared. Logan rubbed her back, stroked her forehead.

  "Is this normal?" he said. "Is she okay?" The Birthman nodded. "It's long, but she's fine, and so is the baby. We just need patience." He dipped a cloth into a bowl of dark-tinted water and gave it to Magnolia to suck. "This will help with the pain."

  Magnolia sank back on her bed, eyes closed, then another contraction took her.

  "Wonderful. That's just wonderful," Pittos said. He looked between Magnolia's legs and said, "This is good. That pain moved things along."

  Logan sat, straight-backed, on the bed. Lillah could tell, even in these circumstances, he was presenting a face: a stoic, strong, loving face. He was that way; stoic, strong and loving, but he wanted everyone to know it, to think it of him.

  Things moved quickly, then. Lillah kept back, watching Magnolia's face, knowing it was her but not recognising her at the same time.

  There was a cry, a baby's cry and Pittos held a pink baby boy. He cleaned the child very carefully, with a soft, oiled cloth, smoothing him, cooing to him, creating a space of calm.

  Somehow people crowded into the room, as if they sensed the moment had come. Someone
said to Magnolia, "Don't be disappointed it's a boy. More people have boys than girls, you know. You're normal."

  Magnolia smiled. "Thanks." She saw Lillah stick her tongue out behind the woman's back and laughed. "I'll try to be happy."

  "Do all these people need to be here?" Lillah said. The Birthman looked up, shook his head.

  "Right, everybody, please, out," Lillah said. She pushed Morace, Pittos' red-headed son, roughly in the back. He clung to his father's legs, but Pittos shook him off. "We need firewood and food, we need the news spread, we need clean clothes and we need space. You've all been wonderful but it's time to go." Lillah had no idea if any of this was true but it didn't matter. The people nodded.

  "Okay, Teacher," someone said, and they all laughed. Good to laugh when the danger is over.

  Once the room had been emptied, it seemed cooler. All they could hear now was the retching breath of Magnolia. Each breath drawn in as if a battle was being fought, each breath released reluctantly, because it meant the battle would begin again.

  Pittos bathed the baby. "You will do this next time, Logan," he said. "You need to be gentle but firm." He finished the bath and dried the baby carefully, then wrapped him in a light blanket, tucking his hands with their long fingernails inside.

  "Help Magnolia to sit up," he said to Logan.

  "What?" he said. He looked at her. "She's tired. She needs to lie down."

  Pittos shook his head sharply. "It's the baby we need to think of at this moment. Nothing else is important. He needs to feed from her. This first feed is more important than all others to follow. There will never be a more important meal. He needs to feed now. If she dies before he drinks, he will miss out on much of what he will need to make him a strong man. Listen to me."

  Logan started crying. "She just needs a rest. She needs to sleep."

  Logan's father went to him and squeezed his shoulders.

  "Your son needs to drink. Be a hard man, now, and help us."

  Pittos rocked back and forwards toe-heel, murmuring in the baby's ear. The infant soothed, but his tiny lips smacked together and his eyes rolled.

  Lillah, Logan and Myrist gently helped Magnolia into a seated position. They propped her up with the cushions and pillows stuffed with sand.

  Magnolia said, "Dad?" Myrist squeezed her hand. "This is when you want your own family. But we are here. We will care for you."

  Pittos knelt onto the bed and one-handedly arranged Magnolia until her breasts were exposed. He put two pillows on Magnolia's lap then lay the baby down. The baby began to whimper as he sniffed milk close by.

  "Lift the baby up. Put both arms under the pillows and raise him," the Birthman said. He pulled back Magnolia's shoulders then grasped one aureole between two fingers.

  "Okay. Let's hope he's a natural," he said. "Lift him so his face is close to the breast."

  Logan, his face still, determined, raised his son. The baby snuffled at the nipple then opened his mouth wide.

  "Put him on! That's it. Hang on." Pittos made a gentle flick at the baby's lips then settled back.

  "That's okay," he said.

  Magnolia winced, flinched, as the baby began to suckle.

  Logan bent forward. "He's hurting her. This can't be right."

  "It's all right, Logan," Magnolia said. Her eyes flicked open as the baby began to suck. Her other breast dripped a thin yellowish fluid.

  "Lovely stuff. Perfect. That's so good for baby," Pittos said.

  The very act of breastfeeding sent a signal to Magnolia's body, and she groaned suddenly as another contraction took her.

  "Twin?" Logan said, confused. "Is she having another one?"

  Pittos shook his head. "It's the placenta. This is perfect, exactly how it should be." Pittos held his hand up for silence and he helped Magnolia deliver the placenta, which he handed carefully to Myrist. "She's lost a lot of blood. We'll feed her half of this, save the rest for the Treeroots." The baby fed.

  Magnolia was pale.

  "This can't be helping her," Lillah said. The baby pulled his head off the breast and wailed.

  "Quiet!" Pittos snapped. "You are disturbing him."

  "Sorry," Lillah said.

  The Birthman shook his head. "He's still hungry. Other side." They shifted him to feed on the other side. Lillah could see the depleted breast like an empty sac against Magnolia's chest.

  The baby sucked until his eyelids closed and he fell asleep with his mouth still full of nipple. Magnolia sat up in bed, holding her baby, her eyes darting from side to side as if catching odd movement, which frightened her.

  "We're lucky. It's rarely that easy," Pittos said.

  Myrist nodded. "Neither of you took to it so easily. Both too headstrong. Your mother struggled and struggled to feed you. She was headstrong too."

  "Are you saying my nephew is weak-willed?" Lillah asked.

  Logan nodded. "It's started already. In my day, things were like this," he said. His voice was not quite up to the joke.

  Pittos leaned over and popped the baby off the breast with a flick of his little finger.

  "Hopefully he'll sleep now so we can deal with his mother. I've sent Tax out for spiderwebs but I thought he'd be back by now."

  Logan laughed. "Tax. He's probably picking flowers for her as well. He's certain she really wanted to choose him for a husband."

  "We need webs."

  "I'll go," Lillah said. She ran away into the undergrowth around the Tree. She knew where the biggest spiders lived. They liked the darkest places, where Limbs grew low and roots grew high. The children didn't like these spots. Too dark and cold. They told each other the ghosts came out of the Tree here and stood watching the living. Lillah had seen this once, as a young girl. It still gave her the shivers to think about it. She had been playing with a pile of wood scraps, building a house for spiders, when she felt a soft breeze over her shoulder.

  Standing there, breathing heavily, was a pale, tall man. He was naked, hairless. Lillah screamed, backed away, knocking over her spider house. "GHOST!" she screamed. He scurried back into the cave before anyone could reach her.

  Lillah was always careful when collecting spiders, or wood from that place. She still told the children to beware, that ghosts could watch at any time and who knew what it was they wanted?

  She rolled skeins of web around her fists. "Sorry, Madame," she said. The spider was as large as her kneecap. High in the next web a spider the size of her head, legs as fat as her fingers, watched her.

  "Sorry, Madame Spider," Lillah said. "You can spin some more." While she kept her tone light, Lillah knew she would scream if the spider landed on her. She didn't mind picking them up; she was in control that way. She loved the strength and intelligence of spiders and could watch, fascinated, for hours as they span their webs.

  Her favourite spider legend was an old one. It was etched into the Tree so long ago those markings were long since disappeared up the Trunk of the Tree, but which was told so often, most people knew it by heart.

  There was once a teacher who, tired of the noise of children, the chatter of the other teachers, went walking amongst the roots of the Tree. She was blessed as she walked because a massive Trunk fell and anchored her to the ground.

  She called out for help until her throat was too dry to speak. She wanted to cry but knew she shouldn't waste the water.

  Realising no one had missed her, or not trusting them to find her, she knew she had to throw the Tree Limb off herself. She managed to break a branch off, fit it under the large Limb and lever the Limb off her leg. Ignoring the excruciating pain, she twisted her leg free.

  Once she dropped her lever, she collapsed. Blood poured from the huge gash in her thigh and she felt weak and very, very tired. She closed her eyes for second, then felt, above the pain, a tickle on her leg. Opening her eyes she saw an enormous spider.

  She didn't scream. Something about the purposefulness of the spider calmed her.

  The spider walked back and forth across the wound
many hundreds of times, sometimes being washed off by the flow of blood. But the flow lessened as the web thickened and eventually stopped.

  Lillah, her arms full of webs, ran back to the house.

  Magnolia was even paler, and there was a smell of vomit in the air.

  "Here," Lillah said. Pittos threw back the covers and Lillah saw for the first time just how damaged Magnolia appeared to be.

  Pittos unwound the webs from Lillah's wrists and thrust them up between Magnolia's legs.

  "There were twenty-two people in here," Magnolia said. "How did they all fit?" Then she closed her eyes, still holding her baby.

  "The baby will be fine," Logan said. "I won't take my eyes off him." Magnolia let go of her child but stared unblinking at him.